I’m fairly certain that when Alexis was born, she sought out a list of all of the things I don’t like and decided she would make them her entire world. Tiny little Alexis KNEW she wanted to be a cheerleader and a dancer and … more power to her. It’s a darn good thing that what makes me happy is seeing her happy because we don’t like any of the same things.
We disagree about books and movies and clothes and … all of the things. Somehow we co-exist just fine, probably because we have a mutual respect for how wrong the other one is about everything, but now she’s taken it too far.
Alexis has decided she legit likes to run. Like, on purpose. When there aren’t bears around. FOR FUN, EVEN.
I don’t understand.
When I was her age, I already knew I was slower than most everyone and I was completely okay with that fact. I was willing to run for the sake of chasing a basketball up and down a court, but THAT WAS ALL. Running ladders in gym class still, to this day, sounds like a form of torture. I hated it so very much.
Alexis loves it. She has been running ladders in the basement just because she thinks it’s some sort of fun. What’s even weirder is that she has been running distances. She’s not into super long distances, but she will randomly go run a mile or two JUST BECAUSE. She even comes home from dance and, at 10:30 at night, runs a quick half mile because apparently that’s somehow a good idea in her head.
It’s fine. I’m not going to do anything to discourage her.
Except.
Miss Alexis likes running with music to keep her company. She’s all about the fancy headphones. I get it. Totally. But … maybe it’s not all that smart for a young lady to run at night with headphones on her head and music blasting in her ears, especially at night when it’s dark outside.
Somebody needs to tell her. I don’t want to because it’s striking me that it’s about 17 kinds of stupid that a kid can’t run with music because of safety concerns because she should totally be able to run with music without having to worry about what some jackass might do.
And there it is – the point at which parenting a girl sucks.